Her Secret Sits Poem by Godfrey Torrance

Si balla intorno in un anello e supponiamo, ma il segreto si trova nel mezzo e sa.

- Frost



Her Secret Sits

Her secret sits
Not in the middle of rings supposed,
But through the detriment of her heart.
Lost her love was,
Never found in the block of time she had.

She dances around her thoughts,
Avoiding the slightest inclination of meaning,
Running from her heart, and the wishes it makes
When she dreams.

In the time it takes to think
She listens to a song,
Her patience,
Forever gone.

She sings of her plight
Anger and dispute,
Playing the song of her heart,
With her love-lost flute.

Her eyes fade away
Once blue like the ocean,
Reminding her of a forgotten notion.

Her hurt floods her pupils,
Making her glance hard and gray.
She wonders what it was like
To feel that way.

To love herself, the world, and those around her.
To understand emotions — to accept such things.

Her secret sits,
But not on her sleeve,
In her heart,
Waiting to leave.

She can’t remain,
She can’t stand still
Because in this moment,
With love, she is ill.